


Bed Hop

by jl_micasea



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: All Rights Reserved, Chan is tired, Do Not Translate, Do not repost, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Teasing, Unrequited Crush, changbin is a nosey parker, jisung is just the cutest, minho is whipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28915056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jl_micasea/pseuds/jl_micasea
Summary: Where Han develops a little habit that gives Lee Know no end of frustration.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 4
Kudos: 132





	Bed Hop

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from my old Tumblr account.  
> Tooth rotting fluff for these angels. Feedback is appreciated via AO3 or on Tumblr @jl-micasea. Please consider leaving kudos or a comment on this if you enjoyed it, they're all responded to and are what keeps me motivated. ~Mica  
> ~ [Tumblr](https://jl-micasea.tumblr.com/)  
> ~ [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/jlmicasea)

##### “Ji? Wake up…”

Minho had lost any remote count of how many times he’d woken up in his own bed, which wasn’t an entirely unusual thing in of itself. One tends to wake up, where they go to sleep, providing all goes well and as planned.

What _was_ proving to be unusual, was the minor detail of Jisung being present when he awoke every other morning, despite the fact that he wasn’t actually around for the bedding down process itself. Yet there he lay, snug and in contented sleep.

Minho had begun to suspect that this was something of a developed habit for the younger, as it was occurring far too often for it to be nothing more than a spur of the moment decision. Add that to the lack of invitation or permission to the bed invasion, and Minho essentially surmised that, while this wasn’t an unwelcome thing, it was certainly raising questions. Why did he keeping turning up only when Minho was already asleep? Why not just ask to join him?

The members claiming each other beds, occupied or not, was far from an uncommon thing. Bed hopping was a frequent occurrence, especially during comeback season when emotions ran high and stresses could be soothed through friendship and simple company. No one paid much of a second thought to it.

Yet this particular bed hop _was_ different. It _was_ worth paying a second though to. Or, for Minho it could be considered such.

Because it was Jisung.

Since predebut, Minho had harboured a soft spot for the younger. He’d been fairly vocal about it during the early days, seeing no reason to keep it to himself. The others would tease and poke their fun, putting him and Jisung together at every conceivable opportunity, just to watch the whole thing play out with morbid hilarity.

But over time, that soft spot had developed into something far deeper. Feelings of clear affection had blossomed, with Minho’s heart skipping an irreverent beat whenever Jisung so much as smiled at him in that way that made his cheeks blow up.

It was wildly frustrating, and despite his initial keenness, Minho swerved off course, faltering in what he thought to be right, or appropriate. He went out of his way to keep the developing feelings buried. How well he’d succeeded, he couldn’t be sure, but this bed act of Jisung’s was making it notoriously difficult for Minho to keep things as platonic and repressed as he thought they should be.

Because now he found himself waking up to a crest of a soft, disheveled, honey coloured hair, the subtle scent of his shampoo laced with vanilla acting as a gentle rousing to Minho’s slumbered daze. Seeing that perfectly formed pout in relaxation, the deep caramel tone to his skin and the ridges of his resting abs just peeking through the duvet of the stuffy single bed… It was enough to test the will of anyone.

Jisung twitched in his sleep, fingers curling to a ball beneath his chin as he turned into Minho’s side. His face nuzzled to the pillow beneath him, the quietest of content, sleep induced hums resounding from him as he felt Minho’s warmth beside him.

The older tensed, eyes closed in ardent prayer that he could retain his hold on his willpower for just a little longer. He wanted to call out to him. Wake him from his sleep, get him out of his bed, into his own room. For his own sake, if nothing else.

Yet he knew that even if he achieved such a thing, he would only be safe from the unwitting temptations of the younger until tonight, when the same thing would surely happen again.

And tomorrow night, and the next…

It was torture of the worst kind.

And Minho couldn’t play along anymore.

* * *

##### “Uh, Ji?”

Minho called, poking his head around the younger’s bedroom door. “Can we talk?”

Jisung was sat in his bed, one of the two top bunks in the room he shared with three others. He shot Minho a look of surprise at his entrance, and Minho himself would admit that it was unusual for him to approach him in his room like this. Especially lately. But Jisung remained none the wiser as to the reasons for that.

He nodded tentatively, closing his laptop and moving to climb down the metal ladder, when Minho stopped him.

“Uh, can I… Can I come up there?” He asked.

Jisung cocked his head, clearly unsure what was happening.

“S- Sure… If you really want to.”

Minho took hold of the metal bars, climbing up the ladder and clambering onto the single bed with as much grace as he could muster, which wasn’t much given the lack of headroom. Jisung scrambled backwards, making as much room as there was available for Minho to sit.

“So… what’s up?” Jisung asked when Minho had eventually settled into a cross legged position, the two of them facing each other like they were about play a teenage game of truth or dare.

Minho supposed his game would have consisted entirely of truths.

He took a deep breath, stilling his nerves before he began. He wanted answers, wanted to find out _why_ Jisung was creeping into his bed at night, though he was starkly aware of the boys sensitive disposition. He didn’t want to upset him. If he were to make him feel conscious about it in any way, Minho would never forgive himself. And he certainly didn’t want it to stop.

“I, uh… I wanted to talk to you about the bed thing,” he began, opting to look the younger straight in the eye as he spoke. He surmised there was no point in beating around the bush. “Why are you getting into bed with me?”

Jisung’s eyes grew wide in that way that rendered Minho weak, the whites of eyes expanding impossibly as his sparkling, hazel flecked irises bore into him. His cheeks flushed almost instantly, a rosy shade of pink that was nothing but heart wrenching.

“I… I, well… E- Everyone does it…” He stammered, his gaze dropping to the duvet.

“I know, but they usually do it when the other is awake,” Minho sighed, immediately feeling stings of guilt for even asking. “I don’t hate it, just so you know. I… I just wondered if there was a reason you’d always wait until I’m sleeping.”

Jisung bit on his bottom lip, fingers wringing the sleeve of his oversized hoodie as he shook his head quietly.

Perhaps this had been a bad idea.

“You know what, it doesn’t even matter. Forget this conversation, okay? I don’t know why I asked.” Minho half laughed, and although he did his best not to make it sound forced, it came off as nothing but that.

He reached out to tussle the younger’s hair, as he’d done many times before, a simple gesture of affection that they’d grown used to, when he stopped halfway.

Arm outstretched, hand hovering above Jisung’s soft head, the pairs’ eyes locked. And Minho likened the feeling that followed to a firm, sharp punch to the gut.

Jisung was looking straight at him, an expression of desperation laced to his features. Burnt cheeks blown out in a pout, his teeth sunk harder into his bottom lip, his eyes glistening with the makings of tears. His knuckles were white with the force of his grip on the material of his hoodie, his shoulders trembling just enough for Minho to tell that he’d fucked up. Severely.

“J- Ji… Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it-”

“No,” Jisung whispered, shaking his head. “It’s not that…”

Minho placed his hand on the younger’s, taking the fabric from his hold as he laced his fingers with his tenderly.

“What is it then?” He cooed.

“I… I _want_ t- to be in your bed… All the time. B- But I thought if I tried when you were awake, you wouldn’t l- let me.” He sniffed, his words staggering with every intake of breath.

Minho’s heart ached, his longing for the boy in front of him worsening with every second. The simple idea that he wouldn’t ever want him in his bed struck him as nothing but a ludicrous one, but that was the enamour in him talking.

“Why would you ever think that?” He asked, shuffling closer as he took his other hand in his grasp. “I’d never stop you from coming in with me…”

Jisung cocked his head, eyes wide and sparkling with a hundred different thoughts and emotions that Minho could almost see.

“Really? B- But you’ve been a bit… offish with me lately. Don’t think I haven’t noticed…”

Minho knew that. He knew he’d been standoffish with Jisung, and his reasons for that, at the time, had been justified. He’d simply wanted to create some space between them, take a step back and give himself time to cool off, in the hopes that his feelings would do the same. Jisung had an almost maddening effect on him, and when the two of them were alone, it was only increased tenfold. He’d done it for his own sanity, and for Jisung’s sake.

“I know…” Minho sighed, breaking eye contact with the boy. “Things have just been… hard for me lately.”

“Why?”

“They just are, Ji, I can’t-”

“Because of me?” Jisung interrupted, his tone shaky.

Minho inhaled heavily, a deep, exaggerated breath that told Jisung he was right before Minho even could.

“I see…” He muttered, breaking his hands free of Minho’s grasp.

He swiped his sleeve across his cheek where a single tear had managed to escape, sitting upright as he tried to collect himself.

“Then I’m s- sorry for whatever I’ve done. I’m sorry I made things hard for you. I’ll… stay out of your way, f- from now on. Thanks for telling me.” He stated, his voice breaking dangerously.

He shuffled to his knees, trying to get past Minho before the older released a taut groan of frustration.

He wrapped his arms around Jisung’s waist, easily slotting them around the slight boy as he pulled him back to the bed. The younger had no room to move, nor complain as Minho held him to his chest, fingers laced in his hair, as close as he could be.

“You’re infuriating, Han Jisung.”

Jisung froze, his heartbeat quickening impossibly as Minho tilted his head up by the chin. His eyes were darker now, his jaw just that little bit tenser as the proximity between them sent the air thick with expectant longing.

“This is exactly what I mean when I say things are hard for me,” he mused, eyes flicking from the youngers’ lips, to his wide irises and back again. “You test me every day, and you don’t even know it. You drive me crazy. I just adore you.”

Something resembling a strained gasp emitted from Jisung’s lips, and Minho could no longer control anything. Any promises he’d made himself were firmly shattered, those lasts strings of willpower evaporating at Jisung’s behest.

Jisung was all-consuming. He was everything Minho ever thought about, and nothing he’d ever anticipated.

He was the one.

* * *

##### “Hey so…”

Changbin smirked, his tone full of that wicked depravity that the others had gotten used to when they knew he suspected something was afoot. He meandered over to the kitchen table, plopping himself down the other side of Hyunjin and opposite Felix.

“Did you hear those ‘noises’ last night?” He asked, making use of quotation fingers before he put his protein shake on the table.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, absently prodding at the cereal in front of him.

“No. If I’ve learned one thing from living with you guys, it’s that earphones are an absolute fucking necessity.” He sighed.

“I did,” Felix grinned, flashing a knowing smile at Changbin. “Seems like they finally got to it, eh?”

Changbin nodded in smug appreciation, picking up his shake and popping the cap.

“We’ll have to congratulate them.”

“You’ll do no such fucking thing.” Chan piped up, striding into the kitchen with his usual morning look of naught but a towel around his hips and his soaking tresses slicked back over his head.

“Ugh, jesus-” Felix quipped, clamping his hand over his eyes at the forbidden sight.

“Why not?” Changbin complained, glaring at the older. “Aren’t you glad they just got it over with? They’ve tiptoed around it for too fucking long.”

Chan nodded as he opened the fridge, his head disappearing inside it.

“Course I am, but I can guarantee you they don’t want a show made of it. You know how Minho gets.”

Changbin hummed in disgruntled agreement, chugging back the shake as he did so.

The subtle closing of a bedroom door resounded through the dorm, every one of the members springing to attention as they watched the corridor expectantly.

And sure enough, a groggy Jisung and a half naked Minho trudged into the room.

“Morning!” Felix beamed, flashing his brightest smile at the pair.

“M- Morning…” Jisung stammered, taken aback by the bright greeting as Minho simply grunted in response.

Minho approached the fridge, peering over Chan’s shoulder before he reached past him for something inside. Jisung opted to take a seat next to Felix, equally surprised when the Australian tussled his hair and gave him a knowing nudge.

“How are you this morning?” Changbin asked, eyes darting between the two of them like he was waiting for one of them to grow a second head.

“Fine. Tired.” Jisung replied, his tone raspy.

“I bet.”

Jisung cleared his throat, dismissing the implication behind the agreement. It came off as someone knowing far more than they should.

“Want something to eat, baby?”

The nonchalant passing of the pet name from Minho’s lips sent all eyes in his direction, and a flock of butterflies were sent to flight in Jisung’s stomach. His cheeks flushed helplessly, and well aware of the change in his complexion, he buried his head in his arms.

“Yes…” He replied, his voice utterly muffled thanks to the fabric of his hoodie.

“What about the rest of us?” Hyunjin called over his shoulder, hopping on the coat tails of the tease train. “Maybe we’re hungry?”

Minho scoffed under his breath, busying himself with preparing breakfast.

“Maybe I don’t care.”

Hyunjin held his hand to his chest, a mock expression of pain on his face at the burning retort.

“So what did you get up to last night? Did you finally strap your balls on?” Changbin asked, addressing the elephant in the room.

Chan shot him a glare, a disapproving glint to his eye as he reminded him of his earlier words.

“I’m sure that’s none of your business.”

“Ah come on, Chan-hyung,” Changbin whined, standing from his seat. He moved over to Minho who was still paying less than little attention, placing his hand on his shoulder and giving him a sturdy slap.

“I’m sure everyone’s curious. Why don’t you share?” He smirked, clearly relishing in his apparent upper hand.

Minho turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised in taunt. He beckoned for the younger to come closer, and Changbin happily obliged, leaning in.

It wasn’t clear what was said, Minho’s words were nothing more than a barely audible whisper, yet every person in the room had a decent enough with the way Changbin’s eyes blew open and his jaw went slack.

Minho pulled back, cocking his head at the younger.

“That enough for you? Or do you want more detail?”

“N- No. That’s enough. Th- Thanks.” Changbin stammered, clearing his throat as he headed back to the table.

“What did he say?” Felix asked, curiosity setting in.

The older shook his head, waving off the comment as he sat back down. He leaned over to Jisung, who still had his head half-buried in his arms. Changbin gave him an affectionate pat of his shoulder and a low whistle of acknowledgement through his teeth, no doubt a gesture of appreciation for the boy, whom Changbin now had a newfound respect for.

“How you still walking?” He muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

Jisung groaned under his breath, yet the embarrassment of being teased and prodded giving him a sense of smug satisfaction that he’d never felt before. It was wildly confusing, but he was sure he’d miss it if he had to go without it now. It was the best kind of confirmation that he now belonged to Minho, and that everyone knew it.

For the simple truth of it, was that long buried feelings and repressed emotions had bubbled to the surface, manifesting as a night of intimacy that Jisung, nor Minho, would ever forget.

Jisung had always harboured an infallible fear of rejection, and that was largely the reason for his night-time sneaking and intrusion of Minho’s bed. He wouldn’t have been able to bear the pain he’d have felt if Minho ever denied him, and he felt nauseous when Minho had dared to bring it up.

Yet now, it seemed, their bed hopping was to become a permanent occurrence. Not so much a hop as an emigration for the two of them. And not one that would ever be questioned, ridiculed, or rejected.

Maybe they’d even get the twin room next year. All to themselves.

A simple, safe space, just for them.

**Author's Note:**

> ~ Feedback via [Tumblr](https://jl-micasea.tumblr.com/)  
> ~ Support via [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/jlmicasea)


End file.
